


Intervention: The Reckoning

by ohmyfae



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-09 08:49:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8884606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyfae/pseuds/ohmyfae
Summary: Ignis and Gladio try to be discreet: Noct and Prompto are not easily fooled.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel of sorts to another fic I wrote; Intervention. What have I done.  
> Also, I can't get over those holiday DLC outfits, y'all.

Ignis prided himself on being the soul of discretion. Which was why he had, had _tactfully_ chosen _this_ rock as the perfect place to shove Gladio into cover while Noct and Prompto sat on the fishing dock. It was important that they didn’t make any noise, so it only made sense to straddle Gladio’s hips. Gladio couldn’t be trusted not to make appreciative sounds, so it would be best for everyone if Ignis close the distance now and—

“You’re overthinking it again,” Gladio said, drawing Ignis down by the neck. He always kissed so softly, even when he was taut with stress and flushed with adrenaline. His touch at Ignis’ waist was firm, but not so tight that he couldn’t slip away at any moment. It was sweet, in a way, but Ignis had never been one for softness, and couldn’t help but feel a little bewildered. He bit down on Gladio’s lip and dug his fingers into his friend’s dark hair. 

“Can’t be long,” Gladio said. “Prompto’s not much of a lookout when Noct’s fishing.”

“Yes, I know,” Ignis said. He trailed his mouth along Gladio’s jaw, and shuddered at the feel of fingers tightening at his hip. “Yes,” he said. “More of that, thank you.”

Gladio was just about to oblige when an unearthly yowl and a splash echoed from the dock. They disentangled, Ignis one step behind Gladio as they raced to the spot where they’d left the prince and his friend. When they reached them, they saw Noctis waist deep in the muddy water of the river, hands fisted in Prompto’s jacket as the blonde struggled to keep his foothold on the dock. 

“Treason!” Noct shouted. “I’ve been pushed!”

“Have mercy!” Prompto cried. He covered Noct’s hands with his own. For a moment, the prince looked at his friend with a cool, calculating gaze. He reached one hand into the depths of Prompto’s jacket, retrieved the camera, and set it on the dock. Then his brows knit dangerously, and he yanked Prompto into the river.

“No mercy to the enemies of Lucis!” he shouted, leaping up for a body slam. 

At the edge of the dock, Ignis and Gladio sighed.

\--

They had to drive three miles westward to have Prompto and Noct’s clothes laundered in Lestallum. Prompto, eager to show Noctis the “mysterious ways of the common folk,” dragged Noct off to the laundromat, leaving Gladio and Ignis some time to themselves. 

It was nice. Ignis bought some much needed spices at the market, Gladio picked up a book on philosophy, and they both admired the majesty of the power plant as Gladio scrambled to rip off Ignis’ shirt behind a stack of barrels. 

Ignis would have pointed out that this probably wasn’t the best place to do… whatever it is they were doing, but Gladio’s mouth was on his neck and his hands were shoving down the waist of Ignis’ pants, and suddenly it didn’t seem that important anymore. He gave himself to pleasure, raking lines down Gladio’s bare shoulders, pressing himself against the wall while his lover sank to his knees on the concrete. There was none of Gladio’s usual slowness, his deliberate artistry, as he took Ignis’ length into his mouth. Honestly, Ignis needed a little artlessness, and he could tell by the look Gladio gave him that his friend had gotten the message. Ignis was flushed, breathing in heavy, erratic gasps, his hands on the back of Gladio’s hands to guide him—When Gladio froze.

At first, Ignis wondered if he’d done something wrong. But then he heard it—footsteps, heading up the stairs to the power plant. The sound of Gladio pulling back from Ignis’ cock was _obscene_. He glanced at Ignis, and Ignis took the chance to look between the barrels at his right to see who their guests were.

Two tourists, apparently. They were of middling size, wearing matching chocobo hats and Wiz Chocobo shirts and capris. They even had giant, ridiculous glasses with yellow, rhinestone-studded chocobos on the lenses. The tourists looked at the power plant for a minute, shrugged, and then walked back the way they came.

“Are they gone?” Gladio whispered.

“I think so,” said Ignis.

“Good.” Gladio started again, holding Ignis’ hips in both hands. Ignis almost stumbled with the shock of heat, and gave Gladio a withering glare. Gladio hummed something in reply, but Ignis didn’t really mind. 

When Ignis came, fingers tugging painfully in his lover's hair, Gladio didn’t pull away.

“Well,” he said. “That happened.”

“It was good, though?” Gladio asked, still on his knees. Ignis chided himself—Gladio did need a gentle touch, after. He nodded and ran a thumb over the scar on Gladio’s brow. They stayed like that a moment, Ignis idly smoothing down Gladio’s hair, before they remembered where they were and started searching for their discarded clothes.

“We’ll have to make Noct launder these, next,” Ignis said, letting Gladio do up the buttons of his shirt. Gladio, of course, had decided to remain shirtless, and Ignis took charge of his abandoned jacket as they walked back to the hotel. 

“Then you can repay me,” Gladio said.

“Of course.” Ignis checked, yet again, to make sure that he hadn’t left anything unbuttoned or unzipped. “In the hotel. After a shower. With the door locked.”

“Sounds like a wild night.”

\--

The walk back to the Leville took a little longer than expected. Ignis kept pulling Gladio into doorways for kisses that went from sickly slowness to a deliberate press of tongues and skin that left Gladio with a vague, pleased look and uneven breath. By the time they made it to the hotel, Gladio was almost undone. They kissed against the door to their room, and only a clever sleight of hand on Ignis’ part got the door open in time for them to stumble through. As they did, they felt the cool draft of an open window.

“Well,” said Noct.

“Well. Well.” finished Prompto.

“What have we here?” 

The two younger men sat side-by-side on chairs they’d dragged to face the front door. They were both still wearing their chocobo hats and Wiz Chocobo Post outfits, and their eyes glittered darkly behind their bedazzled glasses. Gladio snorted. Ignis quickly removed his hand from Gladio’s waistband.

“Lookin’ sharp,” Gladio said.

“Don’t talk back to us,” Prompto said. “Not when you are in _this_ much trouble.”

“How much trouble, do you think?” Noct asked Prompto.

“So much,” said the blonde.

Ignis tried to hold onto a semblance of reason. “I don’t know what you think is happening, but… Can you please take off the glasses?”

Prompto gasped in mock outrage. Noct placed a comforting hand on his friend’s chest.

“Sit down,” said the prince. “Both of you.”

Gladio rolled his eyes, and Ignis wondered if he might be imagining this all in a lust-fueled mania, but they both managed to drag their own chairs over to face their friends.

“The fact of the matter is,” Noct said, when they were all seated, “neither of you have any tact.”

Ignis balked. “I wouldn’t say—“

“Read them the charges, Prompto.”

Prompto pulled out a sheet of paper, waggled his choco-glasses, and coughed. “One. Leide. Ignis and Gladio have sex in the back of the Regalia, loudly. Ignis spends the next day constantly checking the backseat for stains. Two. The two of you made out behind a tree—“

“A tree,” Noct said, for emphasis.

“Not one hundred feet away from Noct and myself, as though we wouldn’t notice. Three. Sex on the beach. I mean, really. Do we need to explain that one. Four. That time you sucked Ignis off in the bathroom at the motel outside of Duscae, and you said, and I quote, “Don’t worry, Ignis, it’s not like they can hear u—“”

“Yes,” Ignis said, a little too loudly. “I think we get the point.”

“Do you, though?” Noct asked.

Gladio was shaking slightly, and he had to keep covering his mouth to smooth out a grin. “It’s not like you two have been very quiet yourselves,” he said. 

“Yes, but we’ve had the decency to tell you about it,” Prompto said. “We didn’t try to sneak around.”

“What’s the big deal?” said Noct. “It’s not like we’d be upset.”

“Jealous, maybe,” Prompto said. He grinned at Noct’s look of shock. “What? Gladio’s ripped. And Ignis has that whole, you know, _air of mystery_.”

“Yeah, we’re having a talk later,” Noct said, but it didn’t sound like he meant it. He crossed his arms and stared Ignis and Gladio down. “Well?”

Gladio looked at Ignis. It had been his idea to keep their trysts a secret, after all. He sighed and took off his glasses.

“If our… relationship distracted us from our duties to you, your highness—“

“Which it won’t. Next reason.”

Ignis blinked. “What?”

Noct lifted his giant novelty glasses. “I said, it shouldn’t be a distraction. Next reason, please.”

“There… there wasn’t one.”

“Then without a reason to sneak around,” Prompto said, “You shouldn’t have to.”

“End of story.”

“So it is decreed.”

Ignis looked from Prompto, to Noctis, to Gladio, trying to make sense out of the last five minutes of his life. No help was forthcoming from Gladio, who was shaking so hard he looked fit to burst. “Fine,” he said. “I apologize.”

“Apology not accepted,” said Noct. Ignis and Gladio both looked up at that one. “You owe us, now.”

“Oh, gods,” Gladio said, putting his head in his hands.

“We haven’t figured out what your punishment is yet,” Prompto said, grinning behind a flash of rhinestones and pure evil, “but we’ll let you know when it comes to us.”

“Meeting adjourned,” Noct said. He and Prompto stood over the shaking, despairing forms of their two friends, nodded sagely, tipped their chocobo hats, and high-fived in victory.

A wild night, indeed.


	2. The Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over a month later, I write a second chapter, and this happens.

It took Gladio three days to break.

He was made to handle the big obligations. Placing the prince's safety above his own? Easy. Facing down rampaging behemoths so that Prompto didn't fall backwards into a leaking tub of gasoline? Great. Dragging the rest of them kicking and screaming to the nearest outpost because _someone_ forgot to fill up the tank? Fine. But there were some points where a man had to draw a line.

"I ain't doing this," he said, planting his feet firmly in the soft loam of the slough. 

Before him, Prompto and Noctis exchanged looks of dismay.

"You promised," Prompto said. 

"No, I said I owed you one," Gladio said, in a voice that carried echoes of his rapidly thinning patience. "So I covered the chocobo rental. Debt paid."

"That was just you being friendly," said Noct. His smile was faint and full of malice. "Come on, it's one photo." 

"Not in _that,_ it ain't," he said, gesturing towards the cloth that dangled from Prompto's fingers.

How on earth those boys had found time to pick up a _thong_ in the wilderness was beyond him, but he'd be damned if he put it on. 

"Come on, dude," Prompto wheedled. "We got Iggy to do the Kiss the Cook photoshoot last night." 

Gladio considered that. It _had_ been an interesting couple of hours. But no. No, he would remain strong. Resolute. Unmoved. 

"You're practically naked all the time, anyways," Noct said. "It's your _thing._ Like how Iggy won't unbutton his collar if you paid him to." 

"Kinda weird, really," said Prompto. 

Noct snapped the elastic of the thong between his fingers. 

"Alright," Gladio said, silencing them both. "I'm done. We're done here. Even the thought of this is punishment enough." He raised his hands and pushed past them, and managed to keep his surly expression in place all the way to camp. There, he pulled Ignis aside, and the two of them spent most of the evening deep in conversation. 

The next morning, Prompto and Noctis rolled out of the tent to find a picture of horror taking place by the campfire. 

Gladio sat in a camp chair, talking softly to Ignis as the advisor flipped pancakes on the stove. Ignis chuckled, and held the back of his head in the self-conscious way he always did when he was caught off guard, fingers digging into the fine hair at his neck. Gladio rose from his seat and kissed Ignis on the cheek, running his hands down Ignis'..... Ignis'....... 

_Bare._

_Chest?_

"Something's wrong," Noctis said, in a dreadful whisper. "Something is very, very wrong." 

It wasn't just that Ignis was shirtless. Ignis was shirtless in _leather._ His pants were a slick, glossy black, and hugged his legs so tight that the curve of his ass seemed somehow rounder and firmer than it had before. Not, of course, that Noct had ever _noticed_ his ass. He just... would have, if it looked like _that._ He swallowed hard and looked at Prompto, who was staring in shock at the way Gladio's fingers gripped the leather on Ignis' thighs.

"Snap out of it, man," he choked. But looking at Gladio was worse.

Gladio was wearing a flannel button-down that almost looked respectable, khaki pants neither of them had ever seen before, and... and he'd tied up his _hair._ In a _bun._

Why did his shoulders look so much larger in a shirt? It shouldn't make sense. Noct licked his dry lips and tried to will a sense of reason back into the universe.

Ignis let out a faint moan as Gladio pressed his hips against the advisor's seemingly brand new, highly unsettling ass, and murmured something in his ear. They both turned to look at Prompto and Noctis, who were still half crouched on the ground at the mouth of the tent.

"Hungry?" Ignis asked, gazing down at them through half-lidded eyes. Gladio trailed his hands up to Ignis' abdomen and pulled him close as he spoke. Prompto let out something that sounded very much like a whine.

"The hell is going on, here?" Noct asked, getting to his feet with some difficulty.

"Breakfast," Ignis said, with a smile. 

"No, I mean, what happened to your shirt, Specs?" Noct said. "And Gladio's... e-everything?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Ignis said. He efficiently split up the pancakes among four plates. "You should eat these fast. They won't be _hot_ for much longer." Gladio traced a hand up Ignis' chest, brushing over a nipple as his fingers moved to his neck.

"I'm going back in the tent," Prompto said.

"Don't leave me," hissed Noct, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. Fine. If they wanted to pretend this was normal, so could he. He grabbed a plate from next to the stove and sat in one of the chairs, scooting it around so that he didn't have to look. Prompto joined him a minute later, looking shaky and flushing pink to his ears.

"They're trying to fuck with us," Noct whispered. "Don't give them the satisfaction."

"Oh, blast." Ignis' voice sounded so much like his usual self that both Noct and Prompto twisted round despite themselves. Ignis was frowning down at his chest. "I'm afraid the syrup bottle backfired."

Noct stared at the glistening drops of bronze that trailed down Ignis' chest.

"Let me take care of that for you," Gladio said, in a low, husky voice. Noct saw him twist his fingers along the skin of Ignis' chest before he remembered what self control was and turned back around.

"Iggy's pulling him down by the _shirt,_ " Prompto whispered. Noct gripped him by the chin and turned his head away.

"Be strong," Noct said. "If you show weakness, that means they've won."

Noct wasn't sure how he managed to get through cleanup. Gladio and Ignis talked to each other and to Prompto and Noct as though they _weren't_ dressed as infinitely hotter versions of their usual selves, and Noct ground his teeth so hard that he felt his jaw pop. Prompto kept getting flustered and tripping over things, and at one point, when Gladio caught him by the arms, he unconsciously trailed his hands up the sleeves of his shirt before he blinked and broke away. 

Noct was pretty sure this was revenge for the thong. Or the apron, or all the times in the last few days they'd made Gladio carry them around. Still, he felt like this was a form of torture that was entirely unwarranted. It was cruel. It was terrible. It was...

Noct glanced over at Ignis, who was leaning down to pack up the camp stove, and felt his heart leap into his throat. There, peeking just over the tight hem of his leather pants, was a thin strip of black cloth.

_Ignis was wearing the thong._

Noct let out a sound that was part bewilderment, part true and utter defeat. This time, he knew, he and Prompto were sorely outmatched. 

There was nothing they could do but surrender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo should I give in and just turn this into an OT4 fic in the next chapter, then?


End file.
